


A Stronger Touch

by luciferinasundaysuit



Category: The Voice RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-28
Updated: 2012-03-28
Packaged: 2017-11-02 15:53:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/370724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luciferinasundaysuit/pseuds/luciferinasundaysuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d never told anyone, and yet somehow Adam knew</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Stronger Touch

There was something about Adam that made Blake want. He wanted a deeper kiss, a sharper bite, a stronger touch. He wanted screams and moans and curses. He wanted Adam’s tongue on his neck and Adam’s nails biting into his shoulders and Adam’s teeth dragging over his hip bone. He wanted bruises and passion. He wanted to use Adam, and he wanted Adam to use him. He wanted to carry marks with him, and he wanted Adam to do the same. Then, when it was over, he wanted to do it all again.

 

Something people never figured out about Blake and Adam was that all the fighting and bickering they did? It was foreplay. Blake would bait Adam, call him names, make insinuations about everything he could think of, swear at him just to piss him off, and all the while, he would lean closer and closer into Adam’s space, just waiting until he couldn’t take it anymore. Blake loved making Adam lose control, because when Adam lost control, Blake got fucked hard and fast against any available surface. Most days, Blake would fuck Adam, and it was always good, but nothing was better than when Adam tried to prove a point with his dick.

  


He’d never told anyone, and yet somehow Adam knew. Blake liked to be held down. Adam knew it, and he he exploited it in such typical Adam fashion that Blake couldn’t help but smile. He would crawl on top of Blake, straddle him, pin his wrists to the bed or the floor or the ground, and proceed to bite and kiss and lick every inch of skin he could reach. His hands would tighten around Blake’s wrists, “Fuck, the damage I could do,” followed by a bruising kiss on the mouth that never seemed to end.

 

Adam would lick a broad stripe down Blake's spine, smiling into the small of his back when he shivered. Goosebumps would rise at the base of his skull as Adam curled his fingers in Blake's hair and tugged.

  


Blake would bare his throat, wait for Adam to lick and kiss and bite down it while Blake’s fingers itched to touch. Adam would hold him there, make him beg and moan until he broke, and then, finally, he would let go. Blake’s hands would fly up almost of their own accord, one wrapped around the back of Adam’s neck, and the other pulling his hair just this side of painfully hard. Then, and only then, Adam would murmur into Blake's name into his shoulder.

  


Adam would push Blake against the wall, pulling their bodies together, feeling every line, every plane. They would kiss hard and fast and a little rough, no time for sweet or gentle. Blake's hands would slip under Adam’s shirt to find skin while Adam threaded his fingers through Blake’s hair. “This is a bad idea,” Blake would whisper into Adam’s neck. Adam's hips would roll forward. “When has that ever stopped us before?”

  


Other times, Blake would trace his fingers over Adam's hip. Skimming his hand along Adam's thigh, he would sink to his knees. His teeth would drag along the bone at Adam's hips. Adam would close his eyes and sigh, head falling back against the bed. Blake smiled. He liked being on his knees.

  


Adam’s kisses were sweeter than wine. They were sharper than vodka. They were more heady than beer. They burned more than whiskey. Adam’s kisses got Blake drunk like no alcohol ever did, left him high as a Georgia pine, and made him forget everything else on the planet. Blake was intoxicated by Adam’s taste, his touch, his smell, by every part of him, and, though Adam would never admit it under pain of death, Blake did the exact same thing to him.

  


No one ever really knew who the alpha in their relationship was. Blake was taller, bigger, broader. Adam, though, he was the one with the iron will, the one who pushed and pushed and never gave that last inch. Blake could push Adam up against a wall, but Adam could have Blake buckling at the knees with a kiss to just right place on his neck. Blake could pin Adam’s wrists to the bed, but if he smiled just right, Blake couldn’t stand not to have his hands on him. Blake could take with his body, and Adam could take with his soul, and neither one ever knew who was going to come out on top. They smashed in a lot of walls, broke a lot of furniture, wore a lot of bruises, and that’s exactly how they liked it, because Blake and Adam never wanted anything easy. They liked to fight for what they wanted, and what they wanted was each other.

  


It was dangerous. They could lose everything. There was nothing that wasn’t on the line. These were the things that Adam whispered while Blake slipped to his knees. The way Blake saw it, they were already dead, so they might as well give themselves this one thing. He undid Adam's belt, stroking his hands up and down Adam’s thighs while Adam ran his fingers through Blake's hair. He looked Adam in the eye. “Let me.” And Adam did.


End file.
